


Architects of Fate

by Tarlan



Series: Architects of Fate [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, Survivor (1999)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Community: fanfic100, Crossover, Horror, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-28
Updated: 2007-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney escapes the horror within the Morpheus I drilling station only to be sent straight back into danger. Crossover with the movie Survivor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Architects of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> LJ Hewligan_100 and fanfic100 challenge 067. Snow.  
> SGA/SG1 AU crossover based on the David Hewlett film Survivor, where DH's character had no name so he can be an AU version of Rodney McKay :-)

The frozen wastes of the arctic stretched out before him as he watched the dark speck in the azure blue sky draw closer, the beat of the rotor blades gradually filling the silence. Behind him, the twisted metal that had prevented them from escaping sooner from the Morpheus I Oil Installation had been breached enough for the three survivors to squeeze through. None of them mentioned the dead lying within the drilling complex or the alien creature that had awoken from its billion years of slumber to test the crop of life it had brought to the planet.

Its ship laid buried deep beneath the ice and snow, giving credence to the Pan-Spermia theory that Rodney had heard about, that life on Earth had come from the stars, but he had never imagined that the carrier would be an alien farmer sowing the seeds of a new crop to feed its people. The information that he had uncovered from the alien's almanac showed that the almanac was little more than an instruction book on how to herd the primitive humans that would form the creature's main food source. It had brought in the rest of Earth's creatures merely to provide a necessary ecosystem, and if the almanac was to be believed, then the aliens had not intended for this to be the only time the planet was seeded over the billion years that followed. If anything, this creature had been merely the first of its kind to come here.

Rodney thought of all the cataclysmic events scattered through Earth's past, some of which were definitely on the scale of Extinction Level Events that should have seen humanity die out. One in particular stood out.

Before he was killed by the creature, Malcolm, their technical expert, had mentioned a catastrophic event that occurred 70,000 to 75,000 years ago.

A super-volcano eruption known as the Toba Catastrophe had lead to the extinction of all of the other human species except for the Neanderthals and modern humans. Anthropologists theorized that modern man had evolved from a small gene pool of as little as a thousand mated pairs, citing the Toba catastrophe as the reason for this. Now he wondered if, after seeing the devastation following the Toba catastrophe, the aliens might easily have determined that the original farmer and his stock had perished. It could be that the true reason for the existence of the Neanderthals was the arrival of a second alien farmer with fresh live stock.

However, if Neanderthals had been the new crop then they had failed to take root, falling into extinction over the thousands of years that followed, for modern science had proved that there was no Neanderthal DNA present in modern humans. Yet they had shared a common ancestry once. Certainly, it seemed more likely that modern humans were the old crop that had survived the catastrophe, thereby giving them that genetic print back into the pre-Toba past. Their connection to the Neanderthals was purely the fact that they had both originated from the same super-crop of humanoids brought to the planet by the aliens.

Of course, it would be a strange coincidence that something had gone wrong for a second time and instead of the new farmer awakening to start the cycle of intensive livestock farming on humanity's semi-sentient ancestors, it had slept through the millennia just like its predecessor. However, when he considered all the possible worlds in the galaxy that could be seeded, and Rodney liked to believe that there were a lot of worlds out there, that probability was not so unlikely. Except it meant there could be another one of these creatures buried somewhere in the depths of the Earth.

Rodney's eyes flicked towards the alien antenna mast lying half buried in the snow, hacked into two pieces by Adam to prevent it sending out a signal into deep space. Had Adam destroyed it in time?

For all Rodney knew, that other creature might have received the signal and could be burrowing its way back to the surface and setting up its own antennae even as he stood here contemplating the possibilities. It might have rung the dinner bell by the time Rodney reached civilization, with a million hungry creatures piling into great ships, preparing to head towards Earth for the feast.

He shuddered, having a not-so-strange aversion to the thought of being eaten alive. Equally though, the alien's race might have died out thousands of years ago but that seemed unlikely as the creature they had found here must have known it had slept too long and yet it still believed that it would find its race out in the stars.

Rodney knew they would have to tell someone in authority about all of this so the Earth could prepare for the worst case scenario; that the rest of the alien's people had received the signal and that they were on their way to help with the first harvest.

Except, who would believe them?

The Transicon helicopter was drawing ever closer and Rodney turned his attention to his fellow survivors.

Cat was holding tight to her estranged husband as if she would never let him go again, and Adam was shaken enough by events to let her, so perhaps something good had come out of all of this. For his own part, though, he felt only sorrow for the people he had worked with so closely over these past months, people who had died so violently. Despite living in each other's pockets for months, it was fear that had pulled them together in the end; the fear of dying.

He shivered, knowing it had nothing to do with the intense cold but with the fear still chilling his soul as his mind tumbled over one possibility after another

He had not expected to make it and, if not for Adam, then he doubted he would have survived that final encounter with the alien. He adjusted his glasses to reduce the glare off the snow, still wondering why he had survived while the others had died, recalling those final few minutes when the alien farmer had trapped him and Cat, blocking off their escape route. He had expected to die then for he had already seen it kill Darren Sloan without a second thought, crushing his skull like a bug as the Transicon executive tried to reason and negotiate with the creature. The alien had hesitated as it alternated its attention between Rodney and Cat, allowing Adam enough time to save them at the expense of his own life; except Adam had not died. Cat had smeared over him that amazing primordial gel she had found inside the space ship, the one that seemed to repair at a cellular level; it had healed his blast injuries.

Could the gel have healed Stark too? He wondered if she was even really dead as he contemplated the strange cocoon the alien had wrapped around her lower body. He decided that it had to do with reproduction because the alien had tested all of its victims systematically to see if they were worth breeding as a food source. It had checked if they were edible, if they were free from disease that, possibly, could ravage its own species. It had even fed Cat, perhaps seeing her as a viable brood mare because she had carried at least one child to term and, at that same time, it had let Adam live, perhaps seeing him as the alpha male and good stock for breeding with the females.

His position in the 'herd' was not as assured. With his poor eyesight, it may have seen him as only fit for the slaughter, not wanting to pass on his poor genetics to the next generation. Certainly it would not have been interested in his intelligence and that was all he believed he had to offer any progeny.

The Transicon helicopter landed, whipping up a man made snowstorm, and Rodney approached it cautiously, ducking as he ran forward with Cat and Adam. He stopped abruptly, bumping into Adam's back when the pilot received a message over his radio headset, holding out a hand towards them, palm outward, to stop them from clambering inside.

Rodney huddled against the downdraft; his arms wrapped around his own body as Adam leaned in and spoke to the pilot. He noticed the sudden tension in Adam's frame even though Adam's words were whipped away in the strong, man made wind. Adam shook his head angrily and stepped back, slamming shut the door and turning back. He grabbed Rodney's arm and dragged him and Cat away as the helicopter lifted off. Rodney lunged forward, only to be held back by Adam. He watched in bewilderment as the helicopter moved away rapidly until it was just a dark spot in the sky once more.

"Why did he go?"

Adam gripped both of Rodney's shoulders tightly. "Something about the Government taking control of the situation. We'd best get back inside before we freeze out here."

Rodney glanced back towards the Morpheus installation, his fear returning. What if it wasn't dead? They might have only stunned it. For all he knew it could be lying in wait for them right now, contemplating a healthy meal to get its strength back up. The heavy thud of mechanical sound came on the breeze and Rodney glanced back up at the sky, almost fainting in relief as he saw several dark specks approaching. The first of seven military helicopters settled close by, sending up fresh flurries of snow that drove against the three of them; Rodney found himself hiding behind Adam as the side door opened. He could just make out the pilot, half hidden behind darkened aviator glasses. The pilot stared back at him and Rodney could read curiosity in the tilt of the man's head.

"Mr. King, Dr. Holden and Dr. McKay, I presume?" A silver-haired man stepped down in front of them, his brown eyes alight with concern, and his thin lips a tight line. He held out a hand. "General Jack O'Neill, United States Air Force." His eyes narrowed. "We need you to come back with us so we can figure out what the hell happened here."

As he spoke, Rodney could see American soldiers jumping out of the other transport helicopters and heading into the Morpheus installation, his attention caught by the hand signals as they snaked between the debris and disappeared into the interior. One final helicopter remained at a distance, the door closed and the rotor still turning, and Rodney had a strong feeling that these were scientists waiting for an all clear before heading inside the facility to start their research. Part of him wanted to be with them, his curiosity temporarily overshadowing his fear. He turned back towards the entrance but straightened in surprise when O'Neill grabbed his arm; implacable brown eyes stared him down.

"This way, doc."

Rodney allowed the General to lead him to the open door of the helicopter. He felt the strong arm supporting him as he climbed inside, only now aware of how unsteady he felt on his feet, as if the energy was draining out of him now he was closer to safety.

Yes, of course it was, he thought. Adrenaline had that affect upon the human body, and he had been running on adrenaline since the start of all this. He met the pilot's eyes as he fumbled for a seat, unconsciously reacting to the twitch of a smile with one of his own, and then they were taking off.

Nobody spoke in the helicopter and, without conscious thought, he found himself plastered up against Adam's side, taking security in the other man's presence while O'Neill stared at him from the bench opposite.

It took a while before he noticed the abnormality in the snow ahead of them, watching with growing nervousness as it coalesced into what had to be a military base. The helicopter landed and he was ushered out across the hard packed snow to the closest entrance and led along a corridor into a small but comfortable interview room. His nervousness ramped up when Cat and Adam were led onwards, leaving him alone with O'Neill. Why him though? He would have thought O'Neill would be more interested in what Adam had to say because Adam had been in charge of Morpheus I.

"Take a seat, doc." The man sauntered over towards the coffee machine and looked back, holding up the pot and offering it to him. Rodney nodded, accepting the hot mug gratefully, only now realizing how cold he felt.

"So...What happened out there?"

"I...I don't think you're going to believe me." He gave a bark of a laugh. "Not sure if I'd believe me."

O'Neill raised a single eyebrow and Rodney took a deep breath, letting the story unfold. He spoke of the strange discovery deep beneath the ice, and of the killings that followed, of discovering the nature of the creature that they had inadvertently woken up. He spoke of his fears, of others of its kind learning that Earth had a bountiful crop waiting to be harvested. Through it all, O'Neill said nothing, frowning occasionally but, otherwise, remaining quiet and focused. He let Rodney rant and babble, let him pour out his fears and release the terror that had burned in his chest and gut since the first mutilated body was discovered.

"It would have killed me next."

"Why?"

Rodney frowned, confused because it had to be obvious. It would have killed him because it only needed a single male and it had already kept Adam alive once when it could have dispatched him so easily. It had pinned Adam to the wall using some strange metal collar while it 'fed' Cat with a regurgitated mixture of proteins and minerals that would actually promote good health rather than simply fill an empty belly.

"You think it would only want Adam King...stallion of the herd."

Rodney looked away in embarrassment. His father used to taunt him as a child about his inferiority, eventually leaving him and his equally sick mother after she lost her second child five months into the pregnancy; a sister. Often, he wondered what might have become of them as a family if his sister had lived.

Instead, he'd been a sickly child, with his allergies and his failing eyesight, inheriting his weakness from his mother, who had never recovered after losing the baby. He didn't broaden out until he was well into his twenties and, by then, he had spent enough time in hospitals to want to turn medicine into a career path. His mother was in care in New York now, unable to fend for herself once the Alzheimer's took a firm hold. He rarely visited her these days because she didn't even know who he was anymore, couldn't remember his name or face, or even that she had a son. It was too painful to watch her bright mind slip away, always wondering if he had inherited that from her too.

"Why are you here?"

"What?"

"Here...in the middle of nowhere treating stubbed toes and strep throat. Your record..."

"It pays well and..."

"And?"

Rodney looked away. It paid extremely well for the few doctors who were willing to spend months out in the ice fields, on call 24/7, just twiddling their thumbs between minor accidents and illnesses and, basically, acting as a paramedic for more severe injuries, keeping the person alive until the company helicopter could fly them out. He used to be a trauma specialist, trying to piece together the broken and ruptured pieces of human beings sufficiently to get them into an operating theater, to increase the odds on them surviving. The mutilated bodies of the people he had worked with and cared for had not shocked him in the least because he had seen worse, but the fear of becoming the next victim, of feeling his body sliced open and becoming the slab of raw meat on the Alien's operating table had almost overwhelmed him enough to consider walking out. At the time, it had seemed better to die of hypothermia, to lie down in the snow and fall asleep, never to awaken, than to face the creature that was slaughtering them one by one.

"You did the autopsies?"

Rodney nodded.

"I'd like you to work with our medical people."

Rodney nodded again, almost relieved that he would be allowed to sate part of his curiosity, having assuaged some of his fear of this particular creature after helping Adam fight it. Not all of his fears though, for he doubted he would ever sleep safely in his bed at night following this incident, forever wondering when the creature's race would come for the rest of them.

O'Neill smiled. "Come on. Let's get a hot meal inside you then one of my men will fly you back there."

Rodney shuddered at the thought of going back but stood up and followed O'Neill. It struck him later, as he shoveled a hot chicken stew into his mouth, that O'Neill had never shown one moment of doubt at the possibility of an alien life form causing all those violent deaths.

***

Despite the aviator glasses and the helmet, Rodney recognized the pilot instantly by the full lips and the quirky smile aimed solely at him as he clambered into the smaller helicopter. The pilot indicated for him to put on a headset.

"Major John Sheppard. I'll be your pilot today. Please return your tray to the upright position and ready for take off."

"What?"

He gained a smirk for his confusion before Sheppard turned his attention to piloting the helicopter. Rodney had been in shock the last time he made this journey between Morpheus and the military base, with the time passing in fits and starts. He thinks he might even have slept, or dozed at least. Now, he was very aware of the snow and ice stretching out before him through the cockpit window.

"Want to talk about it?"

Rodney looked sideways at the pilot, taking in the man's strong, handsome profile. "Not really."

"Rumor has it someone went psycho and carved up most of your people before you could stop him...or her."

It was a plausible explanation and one that Rodney would have promoted had he not been so terrified that the Earth and everyone living on it could now be in deadly danger. After the discovery of the first body, they had all assumed Tanaka had gone insane until they found his mutilated body out on the ice, cut clean in half.

"You know it was...something else." Rodney stated sharply. He would have thought the rumor of aliens carving up people would have been far more exciting to pass on that just some lonely oil driller going nuts out on the ice.

Sheppard glanced at him, lips pursed in thought, and Rodney began to question how much O'Neill had told any of the military sent in to investigate. Perhaps the Colonel had been simply humoring him even though Adam and Cat would have had a similar story to tell, and if he had not taken this threat deadly serious then there was a terrible possibility that Rodney would be walking into a scene of more carnage. They had no positive proof that they had killed the alien, only an assumption based on the effects of the explosion on a frailer human body, on Adam. For all Rodney knew, the alien's suit might have protected it from the worst of the blast.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Um..." He could see the drilling tower in the distance now, approaching rapidly and moments later the helicopter was settling down in the hard packed snow in front of the entrance. Rodney took a shaky breath as he pulled off the radio headset, fingers curling up to fists instead of reaching for the door handle. His head shot round at the movement beside him, watching as Sheppard removed his helmet and glasses, revealing a shock of dark hair defying gravity, sticking out in all directions like a bad case of bed head, and intense green-hazel eyes that locked onto his. All levity had disappeared from the man's expression, his full lips a tight line, eyes narrowing and muscles tensing as if preparing for danger.

"What's wrong?" Rodney asked, head snapping back round to survey the ice field but seeing nothing amiss.

"No sentries."

"No...?" A dark pit opened up in his stomach as Sheppard reached for the headset and held it to one elfin-shaped ear.

"Delta Strike Four, this is Oscar Tango three-four-three, do you read? Over."

"Tango three-four-three, we read. Over."

"Good," he drawled. "Package delivery requires escort."

"Package?" Rodney straightened in annoyance. He'd been called a number of things in his life but no one had ever referred to him as a mail drop before.

Sheppard smirked as he signed off. "Hey, don't take it so personal. We don't like to advertise what we're carrying in case someone else is listening in."

"Someone?" Rodney felt the color drain from his face this time. "You think it's still alive down there?"

"What's still alive?"

Rodney looked at him in disbelief as his worst fear was confirmed. "Oh god, you really don't know what happened here, do you?"

"Maybe I should escort you in myself."

"Maybe we should wait out here."

Two figures appeared in the doorway and it was only then that Rodney noticed that the debris had been cleared. He saw one figure head towards the helicopter, sighing raggedly when the door was opened from the outside.

"Dr. McKay, Dr. Frasier is expecting you in the infirmary."

Taking a deep breath, Rodney stepped out of the helicopter and made his way across the packed ice to the entrance. He stopped on the threshold and looked back, seeing the concerned look on the pilot's face and wishing he'd had time to explain, to warn the other man about the creatures that could be heading to Earth at this very moment.

Only one of the soldiers led him back inside the facility and Rodney wondered if the installation had always felt so dark and oppressive or whether this was just a new reaction to what had happened here. The infirmary looked no different to before except for the new people studying the almanac and the blue gel that Cat had found at the bottom of the core shaft. They chattered excitedly as they examined the chemical composition of the gel but two others looked perplexed as they tried to open the almanac; Rodney strode towards them, no longer feeling so intimidated in his own infirmary.

"Here," he stated as he touched the side of the strange looking artifact, almost smirking as the two scientists flinched when it opened and started projecting the contents.

"Now that is impressive," one murmured in a low voice and Rodney looked into the smiling face, seeing blue eyes lit up with excitement behind thin-rimmed glasses. The man held out a hand. "Daniel Jackson, linguistics."

"Oh." Rodney wiped his sweaty palm on his thigh surreptitiously and shook hands, feeling the strong grip but sensing no malice behind it, just pure excitement at being here and seeing this. Rodney wondered if Jackson would have been so excited if he had been here yesterday. He turned his attention back to the almanac. "I didn't have time to examine more than a few screens of data, mostly pictorial."

"You told General O'Neill that the mutilations, when taking this almanac into consideration, implied that the creature was testing a possible food source....us."

"Um...yes, each victim was mutilated in a different way...almost systematically. Flesh, body fluids, organs including the brain and reproductive organs." He stammered to a halt. "Stark...?"

"She was dead, and had been for some time."

Rodney looked away, feeling sick inside because he had liked her towards the end, once she cut out the loner bullshit and started treating him like a real person rather than a nuisance who could damage her pay packet with his medical observations. He'd been running on adrenaline since the first body was found and even the self-prescribed Valium had merely taken the edge off his panic, but she'd been there for him when he needed someone to lean on. He could still feel her hand caressing his hair as she lulled him into a desperately needed sleep, only to desert him.

"McKay...Rodney?"

Jackson was staring at him with compassion, his hand reaching out to squeeze Rodney's arm. Mentally shaking himself, Rodney turned back to the almanac and the current projection. It was the one that had caused the most reaction before, the spiral of Neanderthal slaves being herded by an alien. Jackson pointed to some the inscriptions dotted around the edges.

"This symbol..."

"Wait...I saw that on..." He hunted around and found Cat's digital tape, playing the film she had shot inside the alien craft and there it was, almost invisible against the organic looking material comprising the interior of the ship. It was just below the small compartment containing what looked like a human embryo.

Jackson smiled. "Man."

"Or whatever the hell they called our species."

Rodney turned to the speaker and was strangely unsurprised to see O'Neill standing in the doorway. He'd seemed like the hands-on type rather than a desk jockey but it was the tiny smile and the warmth in his brown eyes as they met Jackson's that caught Rodney's attention, revealing far more than either man intended. Rodney knew he was useless at personal relationships but that didn't mean he was incapable of reading others. On the contrary, he was adept in that skill, honed over years in a trauma center, watching the reactions of patients and their companions and kin. What he saw now, between O'Neill and Jackson, was something greater than mere friendship; he saw the public face of a lover's reunion. Part of him felt envious because he'd never had anyone look at him that way before.

What did surprise Rodney was the presence of the man behind O'Neill. Rodney had expected the helicopter to be ordered back to the US military base along with its oblivious pilot, but O'Neill must have decided to keep the man and his machine at Morpheus instead. From the pilot's expression, it was clear that he'd been debriefed and now knew the deaths had nothing to do with some lonely driller gone psycho. He thought the pilot looked a little unsettled, which was understandable, but any further observations were thwarted by the arrival of another soldier.

"General? Major Lorne has detected something on the scanner, moving slowly up the core shaft."

"Oh god! It's not dead, is it? We have to get out of here!" Rodney could feel the panic clawing at his chest, making every breath harder to draw.

Strong hands gripped his arms. "McKay! You're not out here alone this time." He gazed deep into the pilot's hazel-green eyes. "You're safe! Trust me."

***

John watched the panic recede from blue eyes magnified through heavy rimmed glasses, waiting until McKay nodded in acceptance before letting him go. It had taken only a matter of moments to reassure the doctor but, after all he had learned in the past fifteen minutes, he could understand the man's panic. He was still reeling from the knowledge that aliens did exist, and that one of them had carved up most of the people originally stationed in Morpheus I. Under any other circumstances, he might have believed this to be some elaborate hoax, or a ruse being played on the US military, wondering if the true psycho was one of the three survivors but O'Neill and his men were treating this as a genuine threat. None of them seemed even the least bit surprised at discovering the existence of at least one alien in their midst and it made John wonder if this was their first alien contact. He wanted to ask but there had been no time earlier, and if the movement in the core shaft was the alien then now was not the time either.

He fiddled with the P90 strapped to the TAC vest handed to him by Lorne and listened carefully as O'Neill ordered all the scientists to remain in the lab section, which included the infirmary. Two marines were stationed at the only entrance to that sector.

"Sheppard, you're with me. Seal the door behind us," he ordered the two guards.

John offered one last reassuring glance towards McKay and followed the General down the dimly lit corridors towards the core room. They found Lorne hunched over a laptop that had been linked up to the Transicon main computer within the Morpheus installation and heard him swear under his breath when all the electricity cut out, plunging them into darkness. Emergency lights came on almost immediately, casting a dimmer glow about the room, and deepening the shadows in the already poorly lit space.

"Sir, I registered a massive energy burst before the portable Naquadah generators kicked in. Looks like ET tried to take out all the electrics just as King described."

"Major, where is it now?" O'Neill asked.

"Closing fast, sir. At the rate it's ascending, it'll be here in just over two minutes."

O'Neill glanced around. "Take positions."

John chewed on his lower lip as he wrapped his hands around the P90 in readiness, finger on the trigger and safety clicked off. He could feel the tension in the room as every soldier waited for orders. John wasn't certain what to expect, but then he doubted any of them knew what would happen when the creature reached the top of the shaft. It sped up for the final hundred feet and seemed to explode into the room, moving faster than they could shoot, the agonized scream of at least two soldiers rending the air as it plowed through them as though they were nothing. Star bursts of gunfire blazed from multiple locations but the alien was too quick, evading them immediately.

"Damn it!" He heard O'Neill cursing followed by Lorne's voice. "Stedler, Marconi. ET had breached containment."

With furrowed brow, he recognized the names of the two soldiers stationed with the civilians. For an older guy, O'Neill could move pretty fast and John found himself just a few paces behind as they raced towards the lab section. Ahead of them he could hear the screech of metal tearing followed by rapid fire and chilling screams, and all he could think about was blue eyes widened in trust that was now betrayed.

They were ten feet away when it came back out into the corridor, the strange clam-looking almanac tucked under one arm and an unconscious civilian under the other. With shocked realization, John knew it was McKay and he sped up, determined to get to him before the creature committed its equivalent of an alien autopsy on the hapless man. It had McKay by the back collar of his clothing, the doctor's head lolling gracelessly as he hung from the creature's hand, and feet dragging along the floor as it turned away without a care for its pursuers. John risked shooting, single shots only, but the bullets bounced off the creature's armor without even slowing it down but John was not about to give up. He raced after it, realizing too late that it was taking a circuitous route back towards the core room.

"Lorne! It's heading your way, and it's got McKay."

More shots rang out from slightly behind and to the left of him but O'Neill had the same lack of success in slowing down the creature. Ahead, Lorne's men lay down suppression fire, the flare of light from their guns flashing through the poorly lit room. Then it was gone, back down the core shaft to its ship, and it had taken McKay with it.

***

Daniel raced into the core room, hair in disarray and face already showing signs of a livid bruise and a trickle of blood from a split lip.

"Where's McKay!?"

Jack leaned over, breathing heavily. Damn but he was getting too old for this shit. He looked up at Daniel, not bothering to answer the question but offering up another in place. "What happened?"

Daniel looked around in confusion. "It wanted the almanac. Farringdon was working over it when the alien came in. It..." He gave a hard gasp, eyes widening in remembrance. "Some sort of pulse wave stripped the flesh from his bones right in front of me, and then it saw McKay. It turned some kind of weapon on him, and slammed me back to the wall when I went to stop it from grabbing up McKay." He looked towards the darkness of the core shaft. "I guess you know the rest."

"Sir, permission to go down there after him."

Jack looked up in shock at Sheppard. Going down there was suicide. "Permission denied."

"Sir, I promised McKay I'd keep him safe."

"We have no idea what is at the bottom of that shaft."

"Actually, we do." Jack looked across at Daniel in disbelief and accepted the video camera that Dr. Holden had taken down into the shaft while the Morpheus survivors were trying to figure out what they had released from a billion years of sleep. He played the footage, allowing Sheppard to watch over his shoulder. Lorne came up beside him with technical information gleaned from the Transicon computer.

"The ship is about the same size as the Daedalus. The Morpheus drill cut through the ship's outer hull into what I believe was one of the cargo bays. There's a hell of a lot more ship down there than we can tell even from the Transicon scanners."

"Sir? We can't just *leave* him down there."

Jack stared at the younger man. He knew all about Major John Sheppard, about his problems with the chain of command that had led him to disobey orders and end up in Eielson Air Force base for survival training pending a transfer to McMurdo in Antarctica. In all other respects, Sheppard's service was exemplary and had not it not been for the incident in Afghanistan, then Jack would have brought him into the Stargate program much earlier. Sheppard was former black ops, equally good on the ground as he was in the air. Jack needed men like Sheppard who were willing to deal with a situation head on, but not one who couldn't take orders so he'd moved Sheppard's file into the 'unsuitable' pile. Now, being in the wrong place at the wrong time had dictated his inclusion rather than his service record, and Jack could not fault the man for not wanting to leave anyone behind, especially someone who had fallen into the hands of a callous enemy, because he felt the same way too.

"Lorne, code red. Get the civilians out of here." He barely acknowledged Lorne's response because he could count on the Major to have the civilians extracted and military reinforcements within forty minutes. "Sheppard, you're with me."

"Jack, I'm going with you."

"No. Not this time, Daniel."

"But I can..."

"No. This is a military operation. We go in, we find McKay, we get out. Not planning on loitering down there to read the inscriptions off the walls, Daniel. Lorne?"

"Yes, sir."

Lorne didn't need the order restated. Instead he placed a hand on Jackson's arm and tugged, leading a reluctant Jackson a few steps away but Jack knew he was making the right decision. This was no mission for a civilian and definitely no place to take the man he loved beyond all life and reason. The alien had already proved that individuals within its former livestock held no real value and Jack could only guess at what the creature was doing with McKay. For all they knew, the man was already dead when the alien zapped him and now lay dissected on some medical bench or butchered like an animal.

"Mallent, Taylor, with me. Sheppard, you take point."

It took only a few moments to discard the TAC vests and suit up, and for another soldier to attach a cable to Sheppard's suit. Jack watched as Sheppard fitted his helmet, checked his oxygen levels and radio before giving a thumb's up to proceed. Jack nodded to the soldier in charge of the winch and watched as the ex-Black Ops pilot disappeared from view. He calculated the time it would take for Sheppard to reach the bottom of the 57,000 foot shaft at five hundred feet per second, moving faster than the alien's original ascent and nodded to Taylor to get ready on the second winch. A few minutes later, Sheppard's cable had returned to the surface empty and it was his own turn to be lowered over the edge and into the darkness.

***

As soon as John spotted the shaft narrowing ahead, he radioed up to slow down. Moments later, he was passing through the breached hull of the space ship, his helmet lights bouncing off the almost organic looking walls. He could see the strange portals, most empty but a few still holding embryonic creatures. Another ten feet and he touched bottom among the debris from the hole drilled through the hull. Playing his light around the chamber, he confirmed that this looked like a cargo hold just as Lorne suspected. Ahead he could see a closed access door and moved to it swiftly, taking up position while he waited for the rest of the search and rescue team. He glanced back quickly and watched one of O'Neill's men come through the hull breach, waiting until the man had sent the cable back and joined him before indicating towards the door with hand signals. Through the faceplate on the suit, he could see rivulets of sweat trickling down the side of Taylor's cheek but knew it was from the heat rather than from fear. John checked his oxygen levels and chewed on his lower lip. He had, at best, another twenty-two minutes of air before he needed to get back to the surface. He hoped it would be enough time to search for McKay.

O'Neill joined them a few minutes later along with Mallent and, carefully, John pushed against a plate beside the door and watched as the door slid open, leading into a smaller chamber that could hold maybe six people at best. Common sense told him it was an airlock and he waited until the door had sealed behind them before activating another of the weirdly shaped plates. The door didn't open immediately. Instead, he felt and heard a whoosh of air, the oppressive heat lowering to comfortable levels. O'Neill was looking at his environment controls and, suddenly, he pulled off his helmet, revealing a sweaty face. John did the same, and nodded as they lined the helmets up along with the spare suit that Mallent was carrying for McKay.

"How'd you know?"

"Let's just say I've infiltrated a few spaceships in my time."

"Like this one?"

Jack looked through the window into the corridor beyond. "Nah, but I kinda figured the aliens breathed oxygen like their food source, judging by the picture in that almanac... thing."

That made sense, the same way it made sense to have sealed bulkheads and airlocks between various parts of a spaceship to prevent full atmosphere leakage in case of a crash or attack. The door opened as the pressure equalized and John risked sticking his head out into the corridor.

"Looks all clear."

O'Neill nodded and they stepped out carefully, splitting up into two groups with O'Neill and Mallent headed one way and he and Taylor in the other direction so they could cover more ground faster. From now on, they would maintain radio silence except in an emergency, or when one of them found McKay.

***

Rodney looked up fearfully at the creature standing over him. He couldn't recall much of the journey down here, only a prickling sensation of a shield surrounding him and the alien as they passed through the high temperatures formed by partially molten volcanic rock this deep into the Earth's crust. It seemed to know when he had awoken, its grip tightening on the back of his neck as it dragged him through corridors that looked like the inside of a human body, organic in nature. When it reached the laboratory, its grip had loosened a fraction and Rodney struck out, seeing this as his one chance to escape whatever doom the creature had in store for him but to no avail. It was stronger and faster, snatching him back as he tried to race for the door, holding him high in the air and shaking him like a rag doll until he stopped fighting.

The next few moments were a blur as it stripped him efficiently like a shepherd shearing one of his flock, leaving Rodney naked, and even more vulnerable when it took his glasses.

"Please!" he begged softly, unable to lift an arm to reach for the glasses as the alien inspected them before turning its attention back on Rodney. Perhaps it was for the best though, for this way he couldn't see what the creature was going to do to him. It smeared something across the lower portion of his face and throat, the gel stinging his flesh, and then he felt its hands on him again, running over his face and jaw, turning his head from one side to another. It moved away again, completely out of view but Rodney heard noises; the scraping of metal against metal that served merely to heighten his fear. Moments later, it hovered back over him, like a terrifying blur with light glinting off of something metallic held in its hand. With his body paralyzed, unable to even close his eyes, he could only whimper as he felt something sharp pierce his skin just beneath one ear. It stared down at him after removing the sharp implement, disappearing from view once more. When it returned, it dropped something into his open eyes and Rodney could only produce the same feeble whimper as his eyes burned from the chemical, unable to blink or even produce tears to soothe the agony.

No longer able to see anything at all, Rodney could only guess at what was happening to him next, his body shaking as he felt something liquid covering his skin from the top of his head to his toes. He felt it slide into his nostrils and mouth, and down his throat, the taste bitter against his tongue. Terrified, he began to drown in the stuff, unable to struggle or to catch his breath as he slipped into unconsciousness.

***

John watched O'Neill leave and was about to take a step in the opposite direction with Taylor shadowing him when he heard a noise behind them. He froze, gun aimed towards the airlock they had just vacated, and finger poised on the trigger as the door slid open; a familiar head popped out. John cursed and Jackson flinched when he saw the guns aimed him.

"You were ordered out with the civilians. Head back..." he whispered harshly.

Jackson pulled out a transparent plastic container containing some of the blue miracle gel. "What if he's injured?"

John snarled, cursing himself for being too caught up in finding McKay to consider the amazing gel that could heal injuries and even bring a man back from the dead. He tried to snatch the container from Jackson but the man's fingers wrapped around it tightly as Jackson pulled his hand back.

"I'm going with you," he insisted.

John stared at the airlock door and then back to Jackson, seeing the determination on the scientist's face. If Jackson had already managed to countermand O'Neill's orders and get someone to winch him down here then John had no hope of expecting the man to stay in the airlock to wait for their return. He cursed under his breath knowing it would be safer to take Jackson with them rather than leave him to wander off alone.

"Fine, but you can explain it to O'Neill when we catch up with him next."

He turned back and led the way down the strange corridor, his hand reaching out to brush the wall, pulling back when he found it was as slimy as it looked. At his silent command, Taylor took up the rear placing Jackson between them. At least they had a little more time to search now they were no longer concerned with the amount of oxygen remaining in the tanks, especially if the ship was as large as Major Lorne implied. John held up his hand when they reached the first corner, slipping around only when it appeared safe to do so. They walked in silence for another six or seven minutes before Jackson tugged on his arm. John looked back in annoyance, frowning when Jackson pointed at a symbol next to a blank wall.

Jackson mouthed the word, "Here."

John looked from the symbol to Jackson, unable to see anything different about it compared to similar ones they had passed, until Jackson pressed it carefully and a door slid open where there had been only slimy wall moments before. Eyes widening in shock, John wondered exactly how many doors had they passed unwittingly, and whether they would have eventually reached the end of this twisting corridor to find a dead end or looped all the way back to where they had started from had Jackson not noticed these hidden door ways. Or maybe this was the first door he had spotted. Whatever the case, John led them into a short corridor that opened up into a slightly larger chamber. This time, John could make out the faint difference in texture between the door and wall, counting at least three leading off from this area. He looked to Jackson again as the linguist peered at the symbols by each doorway before pointing to one in particular.

The door slid open, revealing a room that looked suspiciously like a laboratory. John went in first, keeping close to the wall, and froze. Ahead of him was a slab made of the same material as the walls and upon it was McKay, stretched out and naked. John hurried across the gap and stared down at the man, seeing pale eyelashes and the hair on his head, chest and groin darkened by a mucus film that covered his whole body. He was deathly still, with only the imperceptible rise and fall of his chest proving he still lived. John touched the mucus membrane, nose wrinkling in disgust at the slimy feel. He managed to pinch some of the membrane between thumb and forefinger, pulling it away from McKay's skin, feeling the elasticity in the material but not managing to tear it. Taylor handed him a knife, the sharp blade eventually slicing through the membrane with some difficulty but once they had a tear, the rest gave way more easily until McKay was free. Without the membrane covering him, he looked incredibly young, too young, and that's when John realized McKay's beard was gone.

McKay's eyes remained closed and John wondered if he had yet to awaken from whatever the creature had used to stun him earlier. Perhaps that would have been for the best at the time but now they could really do with him awake and walking. John risked slapping McKay lightly on one smooth cheek.

"McKay!" He kept his voice low and was rewarded by a fluttering of those long eyelashes and the deepening of frown lines on the man's forehead. "Come on, McKay. Rise and shine. Time to get out of here before the big bad wolf comes back to gobble you all up."

"What? Who?" He croaked, desperately trying to open his eyes but John could see they were glazed, the pupils fully dilated and slightly uneven as if he had been drugged, though John couldn't rule that out.

Looking around the laboratory, John could see no sign of McKay's clothes, quickly deciding McKay would have to do without until they reached the spare suit back in the airlock.

"Let's get him up," John whispered and he was almost glad for Jackson's presence as they managed to pull McKay upright between them, grabbing him when his knees buckled. McKay bent over almost double, harsh coughing seeming to echo around the room as more of the strange mucus dripped from his nose and mouth. Aware of the need to move as quickly as possible, John slung one of McKay's arms over his shoulder while Jackson took the other side and, between them, they moved to the door. Taylor led the way this time while John debated on whether to contact O'Neill immediately, or wait until they reached the airlock rather than risk the alien intercepting the radio signal.

A glance across McKay's half conscious body towards Jackson made the decision easier. The civilians were his first priority. Once he had them back inside the breached cargo hold and heading up to the surface, then he could risk contacting O'Neill and Mallent. John resettled McKay's arm across his shoulder, wrapping his own arm around the strong, naked body while simultaneously pushing down the errant thought that it had been a long time since he'd had his arms around a naked man.

As they stumbled down the corridor, John could only hope they made it back to the airlock before the creature realized McKay was missing.

***

Jack cursed. They'd seen no signs of any openings along the corridors he and Mallent had traveled but they had to be some, somewhere. He stopped and took a closer look at the organic wall, looking at the symbol almost growing out of the structure. On impulse, he touched it, jumping back when part of the wall slid back to reveal another corridor and silently cursing when he realized they may have passed several of these hidden corridors. Mallent followed him inside, walking the few feet until the corridor opened up into a room perhaps fifteen by twenty feet across. It seemed empty apart from a bench along one wall. Jack let his eyes travel the length of the bench and then up an inclined sheet of metal to a possible opening.

"Oh God!" Mallent whispered behind him and Jack turned in consternation, seeing the array of tools laid out on a tray that had slid out from beneath the bench. Mallent had activated it somehow but it put the whole room into context. This was the slaughterhouse. This was where the 'live food' came to be processed. He could visualize it now, the stunned human body coming down the chute onto the bench, the tools efficiently stripping the body of edible parts as it traveled along the bench that, on closer inspection, was a conveyor belt. With nausea churning in his gut, he walked to the other end of the belt to see various chutes leading down in different direction, probably separating the different parts of the human anatomy, draining off the blood down the long channel.

He was willing to bet that the chutes led down into storage compartments that would keep the meat fresh. Jack wondered how many more rooms were similar to this, part of a meat processing factory.

"Let's get out of here."

Mallent didn't need to be told twice, quickly turning back to the entrance, stealthily walking back to the main corridor of the ship and pausing at the doorway to check it was empty. They moved out quickly, aware that they should head back to the airlock to see if Sheppard and Taylor had better luck in finding McKay.

Jack took point, leading them back towards the damaged cargo hold but he pulled back quickly as they reached the final corner.

"Damn," he cursed under his breath. It was there, standing right outside the now-open airlock with one of the helmets in its hand. It knew they were onboard its ship. He slid a mirrored surface round the corner, low to the ground and watched the creature as it gazed first one way and then another, Jack's eyebrows rising when he caught a tiny reflection from low down on the opposite end of the corridor. Sheppard and Taylor were trapped too and Jack knew the creature's suit made it impervious to bullets, though that had not stopped them from at least trying to save McKay, hoping to catch it vulnerable without its environment suit. Reaching onto his belt, he pulled out the one weapon that might make a difference in this stalemate, a taser. He hadn't wanted to risk using an untested weapon with a limited range but if he and Sheppard could co-ordinate the attack from both directions then maybe he could get close enough to zap the creature while the others kept it busy. As he reached for his radio, he just hoped Sheppard recalled his black ops code signals.

"Delta 4 strike!"

Jack counted to four and leaped out with Mallent, firing the P90 in a sustained burst at the creature. It roared and pivoted towards him only to twist as Sheppard and Taylor added their firepower. Jack froze for a split second when he caught a glimpse of a naked man being held upright, recognizing Daniel supporting the man, and then he dived under the spray from Mallent's gun, rolling across the last few feet until he was right beneath the creature, and shooting the taser. The twin barbs caught in the gap between the chest section, snagging onto something and Jack triggered the release of charge. The creature performed a macabre dance, arms flailing, legs kicking before toppling, and Jack barely managed to roll out of the way to avoid being crushed. Sheppard was beside him in seconds, his taser triggered, adding another electric shock that had the creature writhing, its helmet dislodged until Jack could see its true face.

Mallent wasted no time, firing a dozen rounds straight into the creatures face, bone fragments and brains splattering around them all.

It was dead.

Jack shuffled backwards before turning to glare at Daniel. "Let's get them out of here."

It took a few minutes to drag the spare suit onto McKay as the man was too out of it to be of much help. Jack left Sheppard supporting the doctor while he turned on Daniel but Daniel held up a hand before he could speak.

"I know what you're gonna to say but you needed me down here. McKay needed me."

"He's right, sir." Sheppard stated, he looked between himself and Taylor. "We must have passed dozens of rooms unknowingly before Dr. Jackson pointed out a particular symbol. He led us straight to McKay."

"Well, for someone who proclaims to be such an expert in languages, he sure doesn't understand English very well." Jack fumed silently for a moment, aware that most of what he wanted to say to Daniel needed to be said in private. "Let's just get out of here... and send in a research team."

Sheppard nodded and reached for McKay, turning the man's head and speaking to him gently. From the look of it, McKay was loopy from drugs, pupils blown, face slack, and eyelids heavy.

"You okay there, buddy? I need to put on this helmet on you now and then we'll get you back to the surface and to a nice warm bed."

"You going to be in it?" McKay slurred the words, one corner of his mouth quirking up. Definitely drugged to the eyeballs, Jack thought, but he noticed Sheppard's initial reaction, quickly hidden. No straight guy reacted that way to a proposition from another guy, especially one he found physically attractive.

"I think Dr, Frasier might object," Sheppard responded almost teasingly but Jack could see the barely veiled interest as Sheppard made sure the helmet was sealed and the oxygen levels good before swiftly pulling on his own helmet. He indicated to Jack, eyes hardening momentarily as he realized Jack had seen something in his behavior but Jack wasn't going to ask and he hoped Sheppard wouldn't tell. Least, not until Jack had managed to get the man transferred formally across the Stargate program where certain of the restrictive military rules no longer applied within a multi-national armed force.

The airlock took a full minute to cycle and then the door opened into the oppressive heat of the breached cargo hold. Jack watched as Sheppard and Daniel supported McKay to the winch and attached him. At least Daniel didn't argue this time when Jack attached the second winch cable to his suit. He watched as McKay was hoisted out and turned back to Daniel, wishing they had a moment to talk privately but sighing and nodding in acceptance when Daniel mouthed, 'Sorry'.

"Take him up," he ordered Lorne, and watched until Daniel had disappeared into the dark core shaft.

***

When Rodney returned to Morpheus a week later, he was both stunned and impressed by the amount of work carried out by the Engineers during his absence. The core shaft was now four times wider and contained a sealed elevator car that could carry up to six people. He stepped inside with mild trepidation, aware of the closed in space and trying, desperately to push that thought out of his mind. He closed his eyes, the familiar mantra of 'blue skies and wide open spaces' echoing through his mind. The journey was smooth and when the door opened, his eyes snapped open too, revealing a sealed corridor leading into the ship's interior. The surface looked vaguely familiar, like a scene from a bad dream and all he could truly remember from his previous time down here was the handsome pilot with gravity-defying hair that had helped him pull the environment suit over his naked body. He recalled gentle hands on his skin and soft words of reassurance... and talks of warm beds that they could share. Except he had the nasty feeling that he'd been the one doing all the propositioning, and Sheppard had gently turned him down, so why did he see green eyes filled with desire whenever Sheppard came to mind?

Rodney flushed in embarrassment when the alien door opened and he found the man he had fantasized about for the past week standing right in front of him.

"Dr. McKay, I heard you were on your way down."

"I...um...Yes. I'm working with Dr. Frasier's team."

Only a fool would have turned down Frasier's offer to join her team, and Rodney was sick of acting the fool, hiding away in a dead end medical post in the middle of nowhere. He thought he might have trouble getting out of his contract with Transicon but discovered that it had been terminated abruptly the day after the military stepped into Morpheus. Now, for the first time in years, Rodney felt alive with curiosity, and with a need to know all about the creature that had been one of the architects of life on Earth.

"Alien autopsy....except with a big ugly monster rather than little gray men." The man smirked, no doubt referring to the infamous Roswell incident that had been confirmed as fact only moments after Rodney signed the official disclosure contract.

"Well, it's not exactly Area 51 here," Rodney bristled, wrapping his arms around his orange-fleece clad body to ward off the chill inside the ship, and feeling defensive because he really didn't know what to say to the man. Sheppard had promised to keep him safe and he'd fulfilled that promise, coming down into the depths of an ancient alien slaughterhouse to save him from becoming the creature's first sit-down meal in a billion years.

Sheppard's smirk broadened. "You're welcome, McKay."

"I..." Rodney dropped his head. "Thank you," he whispered.

"See, that wasn't so hard."

Rodney looked back up irritation, but realized immediately that he wasn't being mocked, only teased. "Yes, well, I'd best find Dr. Frasier and get to work."

As he turned to wander up the corridor, having no idea where he was supposed to go, Sheppard grabbed his sleeve. "This way."

"Right, well, lead on then."

As he followed just behind Sheppard, he withheld the urge to whimper. Sheppard was just as hot as he remembered, from the tips of his messy dark hair to his steel-capped army issue boots, and in between was a handsome, athletic body with lean runner's form. Dark hairs covered his exposed forearms and Rodney had noticed the small thatch of chest hair above the collar of his dark t-shirt; he liked his men a little hairy. He loved to toy with the damp curls on a lover's chest after they'd had sex. Not that he'd fulfilled that particular desire too often in the past unless he included touching his own chest hair after a masturbation fantasy. Sheppard slowed his pace, waiting for Rodney to catch up and then fell in step beside him.

"Do you remember much about this place?"

Rodney looked around, feeling a sense of familiarity but nothing more. He had spent the past week undergoing various tests and procedures, suffering through MRIs and other scanning equipment as the medical scientists tried to figure out what the creature might have done to him while he was captured. All they had discovered so far was that his vision had been corrected, negating the need for glasses. In fact, Rodney couldn't recall a time when he hadn't needed glasses, remembering taunts of 'four-eyes' in the playground.

"Apart from lying on a slab in some laboratory, paralyzed and aware, waiting for that creature to get out the silverware so he could start eating me? No, not really."

"He wasn't going to eat you."

Rodney stopped. "Oh, and you know this how, exactly? During one of your many talks with it?"

"No...it's just, if I was going to eat something I'd smother it in Tabasco, not fix its eyesight and feed it."

Rodney frowned. "Hmm. It does sound a little strange when you put it like that."

"It wanted you alive, McKay. Bet it considered you quite the catch."

"Really? You think I'm a good catch?" Rodney stared at Sheppard, sharp pleasure twisting in his gut. Maybe he had seen something in Sheppard's eyes after all.

"Now, I didn't say *I* thought you were a catch."

"Oh," Rodney deflated, casting a sideways glance at Sheppard and frowning in confusion at the mixed signals he was getting from Sheppard's body language as the man's elbow brushed against him as they walked side by side.

"Here."

Rodney snapped out of his thoughts and looked along the short, dark corridor leading off the main one. Ahead he could see light and movement and, taking a deep breath, he headed towards the inner room. He recognized this place, noticing the other openings leading from this room, though one had a portable decontamination tent set up in front of it. Instinctively, he turned towards one of the other openings and took a step towards it, only to stop on the threshold. A cold shiver ran through him.

"That's the room where we found you."

Rodney nodded and turned away before the remembered fear threatened to overwhelm him, attention pulled away as the plastic of the decontamination rippled and the slight figure of Dr. Frasier stepped out.

"Dr. McKay," she smiled brightly and nodded to Sheppard. "Major."

"Catch you later, McKay."

Rodney watched him leave before turning back to Frasier. He listened while she outlined her ideas, cutting in once he understood her plans for him and following her inside the decontamination tent to strip off his fleece and pull on the hazmat suit. The tasers used to kill the creature had created far more internal damage than they would have seen on a normal human. They had an immunologist and a xenobiologist, but what they needed now to help them understand the inner workings of the creature was someone who was used to putting organic things back together. They needed a trauma specialist, and that was something Rodney had excelled at before joining Transicon. He rubbed his hands together. He was about to assist in his first alien autopsy.

***

John shook his head as he walked away from the laboratory where they were studying the alien's body but his thoughts were not on aliens, rather they were on Rodney McKay. He'd not felt such a strong attraction towards someone in years, if ever. There was something about McKay that broke through the barrier he had set up on the day he joined the military, willingly giving up relationships with men purely because he wanted to fly. That dream had not changed and the Air Force still had the fastest planes and helicopters but the loneliness had dragged upon him of late and no number of women falling easily into his bed had alleviated that feeling. All in all, his life had gone from bad to worse in recent years, and he'd seriously contemplated resigning after the incident in Afghanistan but he couldn't see himself settling for a ground job or operating a crop duster out of some one-horse farming town in the Midwest. There was always the commercial airlines or tourist firms seeking qualified helicopter pilots, companies like Transicon, but he hadn't been ready to give up his admittedly stalled career then. Yes, he was a pilot, but he was also a soldier and a damn good one at that.

Now, everything had changed again. O'Neill had offered him a chance to travel to whole new worlds, and to fly planes that flew faster than anything he had ever piloted on Earth, planes filled with alien technology. Yet he'd considered turning down this chance of a lifetime because of a pair of deep blue eyes and a crooked smile packaged with a strong male body. Large hands and a muscular chest, the inverted triangle of light brown curls and pert nipples that had peaked in the chill of these corridors, and an ass that begged to be fucked, seen in all its glory within this very ship only a week before. He remembered the feel too, the softness of McKay's skin, the play of muscle beneath his fingers, the warm breath against his throat when McKay's head lolled to one side in a semi-drugged stupor.

He remembered the interest too, the desire in those blue eyes as McKay offered him everything John wanted so badly at that moment, recalled how hard it had been to pretend those words have left him unmoved. O'Neill wasn't fooled though, and even after a full week had passed by, he still stiffened in apprehension whenever O'Neill made an appearance but, so far, the General had said nothing.

Don't ask, don't tell.

He hated it, hated the hypocrisy that insisted that only straights could fly planes or shoot guns or kill in the service of their country. Hated that he couldn't be himself, couldn't share his moments of peace between wars and missions with the person he wanted purely because they were the same gender, because they were both male. Yet he had made the personal sacrifice willingly for the past eighteen years not realizing that all it would take to crack his resolve was a pair of vulnerable blue eyes and that wide, slanted mouth.

"Major Sheppard."

Speak of the devil, he thought, and drew up to attention as O'Neill approached. "Sir?"

"McKay get down here in one piece?"

"He's with Dr. Frasier right now."

"Good." O'Neill blew out his cheeks and eyed John strangely. "I want you to keep a close eye on him."

"You think he was compromised?"

"By the alien?" O'Neill shook his head. "The docs couldn't find anything on him. But he had a pretty traumatic time here, and we still don't know why the alien wanted him in particular." He started walking and John fell in step beside him. "I have Daniel checking through the ship's database and that almanac...thing, to see if anything rears its ugly head." He stopped abruptly. "He trusts you...and he likes you." O'Neill had a glint in his eye that John could not decipher. "And you like him."

O'Neill walked off without another word leaving John will alarm bells shrieking in his head. He silenced them with another thought because he'd seen no animosity in O'Neill's eyes. If anything, his eyes had held affection as if he found it amusing that John had fallen for a nerdy, socially inept doctor with a measured IQ higher than most people on the planet. Before O'Neill reached the far corner, Jackson intercepted him, and everything fell into place as John watched Jackson reach out to touch O'Neill's arm. John smiled for the first time since realizing he'd fallen for McKay, knowing he was not the only soldier with a crush on a nerdy doctor.

***

Stripped of its environment suit, the alien looked smaller and far less threatening, and Rodney felt a pang of guilt that this creature had survived a billion years alone in this ship only to die at their hands within days of possibly awakening. The fact that it brought its death upon itself seemed immaterial now because all life was precious, even this creature's.

Rodney worked slowly, teasing apart tissue, muscle and bone, and assessing the damage caused by the taser charges. He could see cauterized tissue that reminded him of the effects of severe electric shock. He'd seen a few of those during his years as an ER trauma surgeon, people who had touched the live rail on a railway track, or clipped a power line, even one person who'd been struck by lightning. It took only a moment to pinpoint where two individual charges had entered and exited the body, causing havoc and destruction in between. As always, he talked as he worked, giving a running commentary of what he found and what he suspected about the alien's anatomy. Beside him, Frasier assisted with an expertise he appreciated, having suffered a fair number of useless assistants in the past, wondering if they'd bought their medical degrees because it didn't seem like they had earned them.

Many hours later, he stepped back and squeezed his eyes shut. He'd not slept well in weeks, since long before the creature rose up the core shaft and butchered its way through most of the people stationed on Morpheus. It was not the memory of mutilated bodies that played behind his eyes each night because he'd seen too many in his lifetime to feel traumatized over that particular sight, or even that he had known those victims, had talked and laughed with them. His nightmares came from a fear of dying alone, and he knew that part of this was to do with his mother, imagining her waking up each day with no memory, probably feeling unloved and forgotten. He knew that it could be him one day and, after this recent brush with death, that scared him.

Janet Frasier smiled at him, laying a small hand on his arm. "We should head back up to the surface."

"Yes. Good idea."

He followed her into the decontamination tent, shedding the hazmat clothing that he'd been sweating in for hours and feeling a little embarrassed at the less than pleasant odor, and then even more embarrassed when he had to strip and shower in front of Frasier. Her eyes crinkled with merriment.

"Nothing I haven't seen before, doctor."

"Oh...yes. Me too, I suppose." He laughed breathily, half indicating towards her nearly naked body and feeling a little more at ease as he pulled off his boxers and stepped beneath the spray. The water was perfect, the heat sinking into tired muscle and warming him through. He mumbled as Frasier finished her shower quickly and left, leaving him to relax beneath the cascading water, letting it wash away the fatigue and sweat until he felt clean and refreshed. This was far better than the showers above in Morpheus that tended to run hot and cold, scalding him one moment and freezing him the next until he had given up on them and stuck to what equated to sponge baths. Turning off the water, he grabbed the towel, impressed that it was soft and fluffy rather than stiff as a board, and began to scrub at his hair as he stepped out of the shower.

"Enjoy the shower?"

Rodney jumped, whipping the towel down to conceal his naked body as he registered Sheppard's voice. He struggled to wrap the small towel around him and froze as Sheppard held out a bath sheet, eyes dancing in amusement.

"What are you doing here?" He snarled in a harsh whisper as he snatched the towel from the outstretched fingers and turned away to wrap the towel firmly around his body.

"Heard you were finished for the day."

"What? So you thought you'd hang around to see me naked again."

At least Sheppard had the decency to look a little embarrassed at that. "I didn't know you were going to be naked...again."

"Yes, well...turn around."

"Turn?" Sheppard raised both eyebrows and turned his back, leaving Rodney a modicum of privacy to pull on the fresh clothes laid out for him beside his fleece.

It took a little twisting to pull the boxers on while retaining hold of the towel but he managed it, glancing up frequently to watch Sheppard to make sure he wasn't peeking. As he dropped the towel and pulled on his pants, it occurred to him that Sheppard hadn't looked embarrassed before Rodney remonstrated with him, and neither had he looked away. He hadn't looked disgusted either even though Rodney knew he was no Adonis. His skin was almost as white as the snow on the surface above, and he was a little out of shape from spending too many days sitting around reading scientific journals and rearranging his small medbay and office. He knew he should have taken the advice he dished out to the others and spent at least thirty minutes a day exercising but there was always an excuse not to bother.

He pulled on his fleece and mumbled to Sheppard that he was decent, trying to hide the pink tinge of embarrassment as he walked past Sheppard and out into the main corridor. A quick glance confirmed that Sheppard was smirking again but, this time, Rodney felt the heat of desire in his belly rather than the churning of self-mortification.

***

The first sign of another alien presence on Earth came a week after the original alien's aborted signal, and if Jack's people had not been watching for an anomaly then the Earth might never have known. As it was, the creature emerged from beneath the retreating glaciers of Northern Europe, high in the Alps. Under the circumstances, Jack had to be impressed because McKay had put forth a theory that the Neanderthals were a second crop of humans and, according to the history books, the Neanderthals had appeared and flourished in Northern Europe before becoming extinct.

Unfortunately, that was where his luck seemed to run out because the creature disappeared soon after reaching the surface, possibly activating a cloak. By now, it could be anywhere but Jack had a strong suspicion that it had not traveled far. The Daedalus was in orbit monitoring all frequencies in normal and subspace, and blocking anything that was remotely suspicious, because they could not take the risk that more of these long-lived creatures were still hanging around, waiting for the dinner gong announcing the next meal.

Putting himself in the creature's place, Jack knew he would go to investigate the signal that had awoken him, which meant it could be heading towards the Morpheus I installation even now, or might possibly already be here, hidden out on the ice fields. Silently, he wondered if it had known of its brethren's presence on Earth. Perhaps its race was so used to spending millennia alone that it had not contemplated a meeting until now. Anything was possible, though it was more likely that it had assumed the earlier 'farmer' had perished when it did not awaken to tend to the crop of humanity that had sprung up on the planet.

Jack had given orders to double the guards as soon as the first inexplicable seismic activity had been recorded in the Alps, bringing in fresh reinforcements from the USAF base, and he had made certain the Naquadah generators were fully operational. As for the scientists, most were already back on the surface being transported back to the base. The remainder were still down inside the alien ship being rounded up by his men, and Jack was very conscious of the time taken so far but there was only one elevator. He watched as the elevator door opened, spilling out another small group that included Janet Frasier.

"Doc."

"General."

"Where's Daniel... and McKay?" he added quickly.

Her lips twitched knowingly and Jack fought back a sigh of resignation because she was too astute to have missed his relationship with Daniel, especially the physical side of it. She was their doctor, and she had examined them both after practically every offworld mission from the first time he and Daniel stepped through the Stargate to Abydos. She probably knew his body better than he did, and probably just as intimately though for professional rather than personal reasons.

"McKay was cleaning up. I left Major Sheppard with him."

"Good...and Daniel?"

"I haven't seen him since this morning."

"Then he's probably still down there looking at 'just one more, Jack'," he mimicked in annoyance. Jack looked back over his shoulder to where Lorne was waiting patiently for further orders. The tightness in the Major's jaw showed that he was aware an attack could come at any moment, and Jack had to agree. The original creature had seen the humans in the Morpheus I installation as little more than cattle, either unwilling or uncaring of their sentience, so they could expect no better from the next 'farmer'.

"I'm going back down there." He grabbed the taser gun and headed into the elevator.

"Sir!"

Jack turned as soon as he entered the elevator, lips tightening at the anxious look on Lorne's face. "Get the rest of the civilians out of here, Major."

He stabbed at the descent button, barely acknowledging Lorne's salute as the doors closed. The journey down was fast but Jack was aware of very passing minute. He glanced up as the light in the elevator flickered before plunging him into darkness until the Naquadah generator kicked in moments later. Anything could have caused a problem with the electric supply but Jack knew in his gut that it was the alien. It was here. As the sounds of frantic activity and gun fire filtered through his headset from Lorne's team above, he cursed the slowness of the elevator, squeezing through the opening doors as soon as there was enough space and running down the sealed corridor to the airlock. He could hear something coming down the core shaft at speed, Lorne's voice confirming his suspicion.

"Oh for Chrissake, come on!" he murmured under his breath as the airlock opened just a little too slowly for comfort. A bang against the outer door had him looking up because he knew what was out there. The inner door opened and he spotted Sheppard and McKay instantly.

"Get back! It's here!"

"What?" McKay looked wide-eyed with confusion but Sheppard reacted immediately, grabbing the scientist around one arm and dragging him back the way they had come with Jack close on their heels. "What's... back?" McKay huffed as they ran, and then he froze momentarily, heels digging in before Sheppard's pulling and a shove from Jack got him moving again. "It's...it's...Oh god!"

"Keep going," Jack yelled as they reached the small corridor where the other alien was being dissected and McKay attempted to retreat down it but, like him, Sheppard knew it would be a bad idea getting trapped down there with the incriminating evidence of another dead alien. Plus Daniel was working a few corridors further along. Probably assuring whatever soldier had been sent to fetch him that he'd be finished at any moment, Jack thought sarcastically. Sheppard palmed one hidden corridor open, hoping to fool the creature into believing they had gone down that way but Jack could still sense it coming. He saw Daniel step out ahead of them, head buried in his notebook but he looked up in alarm as the three of them raced towards him.

"Get back!" Jack yelled again, this time for Daniel's benefit and, for once, Daniel didn't stop to argue, pushing the nameless soldier back down the short corridor into the small atrium where several rooms led off in different directions. Jack slapped his hands on the door plate, backing slowly away as the door closed with barely a sound. He held the taser ready because the science geeks had taken one of these panels to pieces but hadn't figured out a way to lock the door, leaving them vulnerable to attack from that direction. He felt movement at his back and a quick glance revealed Sheppard with his taser drawn. One thing Jack hadn't noticed before was that the door shell was translucent from this side when closed. He saw the bulk of the creature stopping before the door, one arm reaching up to touch it but otherwise making no move to open the door and enter. Jack frowned when it reached up again and tapped against the control symbol before turning and moving away.

Had they fooled it?

Some sixth sense warned Jack that it hadn't been fooled in the least and, in retrospect, he felt as if they had been herded and penned into this area. He waited several long minutes then indicated towards Sheppard to cover him while he stepped forward.

"Jack?"

Daniel's voice was low, and filled with worry, and Jack tried to offer a reassuring look but Daniel locked worried eyes with him, concern ratcheting up. Behind him, McKay looked like he'd seen a ghost, eyes too wide and too blue in a pale face, mouth turned down in fear. Jack saw him reach up to rub at an irritating spot behind his ear without conscious thought.

"Hell, no," Jack murmured, realization flooding through him along with a feeling of certainty that was confirmed when he touched the symbol on the door panel and nothing happened. It had sealed them in here, penned them just as Jack had suspected, and Jack had a strong feeling he knew how it had known of their exact whereabouts.

McKay scratched at that spot again. Nothing had shown up on the medical scans but these creatures had technology that was probably on a level with the Asgard, or possibly better. Tagging their livestock was probably second nature to them, as it was to most farmers the galaxy over, and he could almost bet the original alien had tagged McKay when it had him in its clutches.

"It knew we were in here," McKay stated, voice cracking in fear.

"Ya think?" Jack closed his eyes and sighed, knowing he could hardly blame McKay for what the first creature had done to him, but when McKay scratched again, the fingers froze over the spot, eyes widening and mouth agape in shocked realization. "Not your fault, McKay."

McKay looked to Sheppard, eyes still wide and fear-filled. "It was after me!" Sheppard frowned, looking at McKay askance, head tilted. "It tagged me!" A momentary flare of his eyes was all Sheppard revealed before his lips tightened in understanding. McKay rubbed at that spot again. "I should have known," he choked out. "It...it's been itching for a few hours." He pulled on his ear, pulling it aside and bending towards Sheppard. "Can you see anything?"

Sheppard made a half-hearted attempt to look but, like Jack, he'd already figured that there wouldn't be anything to see, otherwise the medical team would have said something when they checked McKay over following his abduction.

"We still have these," Sheppard remarked, holding up the taser. It had stopped the last alien, the electricity burning through its body like a lightning strike. The second alien would be in for a surprise when it finally came for them, probably not knowing they knew how to fight back using electricity.

A shudder ran through the flooring, vibrating through the soles of Jack's boots and he looked to Daniel as if a linguist could explain what was happening, except in this case, it looked like they both had the same terrible thought; the ship was moving. The vibration grew stronger as the engines burned, super-heating the rock and ice covering the ship. Jack keyed his radio and ordered anyone still in Morpheus to evacuate immediately and get as far away as possible but no one answered. He felt Daniel's hand on his forearm, gripping tight and when he glanced over, he saw McKay clinging to Sheppard with both hands, like he was hanging on for dear life. Sheppard didn't seem to mind that much, probably too busy trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Jack could tell the moment they broke through the surface by the lessening of strain on the engines, and he wasn't looking forward to the next part because the Daedalus was up there, and Caldwell has orders to shoot down anything that tried to escape the planet.

***

John barely noticed McKay clinging to him. Instead, his thoughts centered on the source of the vibration, recognizing the sensation from the few times he had flown experimental jets for the Air Force. It was like the drag of a ship climbing through the Earth's atmosphere as it headed for the stratosphere and outer space. It was a sensation he had felt in simulations from when he tested for NASA and the Space Shuttle program before being turned down and deployed on a totally different type of craft, except this ship had to be moving through superheated rock and melting ice. This felt like the Shuttle, strapped to powerful rocket boosters, and trying to reach escape velocity, the strain easing once the ship broke through the surface.

After the worst of the vibration dissipated, he looked to O'Neill, aware from the mission reports he had glanced through since being pulled into the Stargate program last week, that O'Neill had some experience with space travel as well as with infiltrating space ships. He also knew about the Daedalus and its standing orders during this incident. The tight grip Rodney had on his arm finally made itself known but, despite O'Neill's presence, John felt no inclination to push Rodney away. Instead he was filled with regret for not having had the chance to get to know him better because there was something about McKay that appealed to him on so many levels, both physically and mentally. Now, all he could do was wait for the inevitable fiery death as the Daedalus followed her orders and destroyed this ship before it could escape and bring a host of ravenous aliens down upon the Earth.

O'Neill was staring at him now, his brown eyes hard and his face displaying no emotions but John noticed that the General had not pushed Jackson away, instead placing his hand over the one clamped to his forearm, entwining the fingers and almost double-daring John to say a single word. John gave the slightest nod in understanding and reached up to place a hand on Rodney's shoulder, pulling the terrified man in closer, and he saw O'Neill's eyes soften as Rodney buried his head in the crook of John's neck.

The first shudder rippled through the ship, and Rodney clutch tighter to him as the came perilously close to losing their balance. Several more hits had them off balance and falling to the deck but through it all, John kept a tight grasp on Rodney, somehow ending up on the floor with his back to the wall and with Rodney seated between his spread legs with his broad, orange fleece-clad back to John's chest.

The lighting flickered with each barrage, threatening to plunge them into darkness, before turning a blue that matched the color of Rodney's wide, frightened eyes as Rodney glanced over his shoulder. "What's happening?"

"We're being fired on."

"What? By whom?"

John tightened his lips, knowing Rodney was bright enough to figure that out for himself because of what he had learned over the past week. Another shudder ran through the ship and John held onto Rodney, bracing the other man as he wrapped his arms around Rodney and held him against his chest tighter. John knew the moment the answer came to Rodney from the way he dropped his head in despair, only to jerk back up as the ship took another direct hit. Across from him, he could see O'Neill holding onto Jackson while the Sergeant Taylor huddled up on the other side of O'Neill.

Jackson looked perplexed. "Shields seem to be holding."

"Strangely, I don't feel comforted by that."

O'Neill's sarcasm was obvious and expected under the circumstances because that left them alive on an alien ship heading who knew where with an alien that liked to eat people. John wasn't too comforted either but he had to admit that the one thing that confused him was why the alien had come for this ship rather than use its own. This one had to be millions of years older and probably not so space worthy after all that time so why take the gamble of bringing this ship to the surface and then using it to run the blockade formed by the Daedalus? Only two possibilities came to mind. First, its own craft was damaged in some way or not powerful enough to withstand the firepower of the Daedalus and, second, maybe this was a tactic to keep the Daedalus engaged while the other ship slipped away, but that meant the creature was no longer onboard this ship.

The battering stopped abruptly and, after a moment, John let go of Rodney and pushed to his feet, pulling the taser and waiting for back up before heading towards the door. He depressed panel but still nothing happened.

"Where's Carter when you need her?," O'Neill murmured

John knew from the old SG-1 mission reports that Carter was a tech geek on O'Neill's former team, and with no one else capable of taking on her more gentle approach to opening the door, he pulled his hand gun and aimed at the panel.

"No, no, no, no." Rodney rushed forward and grasped his wrist. "Is this the military answer to everything? If it doesn't work then shoot it?"

"You have a better idea? Or would you like us to wait here until it gets a little hungry and comes for a snack?"

Rodney paled at the thought and John felt mean for reminding him that the other alien had systematically murdered people that Rodney had lived and worked with for months as it verified they were edible. He offered a silent apology and squeezed Rodney's shoulder.

"So, what did you have in mind, doc?"

"Well it's...Do you have a sharp knife, and maybe a small tool kit?"

John dug into one of the pockets on his TAC vest and withdrew a rolled toolkit before pulling a thin but sharp knife from a hidden sheath. He held both out and Rodney took the knife, holding it with practiced ease as befitting a surgeon. Oh yes, John had looked up Rodney's history, wondering why he had given up a well paid surgical position in a trauma center for the icy wastes of the Arctic. He watched as Rodney cut into the semi-organic wall, revealing the innards of pulsing cables-like structures. Handing back the knife, he snapped his fingers and, with a quirk of a smile, John passed over the whole toolkit; Rodney looked from his hand to John in exasperation.

"I don't need the whole kit."

John snatched it back and unrolled it. "Then maybe you should actually say what you want rather than snapping your fingers."

Rodney looked like he was going to argue but then he sighed. "Right, right." He studied the unrolled kit and selected a small screwdriver head, snapping it onto the generic handle before probing the sliced-opened panel.

O'Neill was looking on too, eyebrows raised in surprise as Rodney worked on the doorway that had stymied the engineers assigned to the task. The door opened suddenly with a triumphant huff from Rodney, and John shoved him back out of harm's way before taking a step forward and checking the corridor. It was all clear. He nodded to O'Neill and Taylor and slipped out, pulling Rodney behind him.

"How'd he do that?" John heard O'Neill whisper to Jackson and saw the shrug in response.

"Organic system..." Rodney stated over his shoulder and John shoved a hand over the man's mouth to silence him, and tried not to think about the feel of soft skin and kissable lips. He stared deep into Rodney's eyes, conveying the need for continued silence, and almost losing himself in an ocean of blue while he waited for a nod of understanding, before releasing his hand. He licked his lips self-consciously, viciously shoving down the desire racing through him, and turning away. His palm tingled from the contact as he led them down the corridor with Taylor bringing up the rear. If the creature was still on board then they had to find it and destroy it first, and then they could figure out a way to navigate the ship home or call for help from the Daedalus.

***

Jack led the way down the corridor, moving swiftly but carefully, ever conscious of the knowledge that the creature could be lying in wait for them. He knew the main control center lay in this direction, having been there several times to watch the scientists study the consoles without much luck, but then they had been forced to work with a dormant craft rather than one fully operational. Yet what concerned him most was the lack of buffeting from the Daedalus firing on them. It was as if it had ceased altogether and Jack could think of only a few reasons why Caldwell would stop firing. Either the Daedalus had found an alternative target, they had escaped beyond its reach... or the Daedalus had been destroyed. Jack hadn't felt the power up and activation of weapons though.

The organic doorway to the control room slid open quietly, answering Jack's question of whether or not the creature was still onboard the ship. It was bent over a console, too distracted by the sight of the Daedalus looming in the view screen to notice his arrival. A quick hand sign had Sheppard pushing McKay and Daniel back into the corridor before fanning out with Taylor, hoping to come at the creature from three sides. It straightened abruptly and turned fast, realizing its danger almost too late. A beam shot out from a pointing arm, catching Taylor in the chest and he screamed as uniform and skin melted away from his bones, dead before he hit the floor but, before it could align its next shot on Jack, Sheppard had breached its defenses. The taser barbs struck between its armor, biting into its flesh; the electrical discharge firing through its body, its limbs jerking in a macabre fashion until the charge dissipated, and it fell into a heap of burned flesh at Sheppard's feet.

Jack shoved the alien body aside and looked over the controls, seeing only meaningless symbols.

"Daniel!"

He saw both Daniel and McKay flinch at the sight of Taylor and the dead creature before hurrying over to join him. Daniel was staring hard, murmuring under his breath in that familiar way that was even more annoying when their lives were on the line but McKay seemed to hear him, saying, "yes, yes," in response and reaching for controls, depressing strange buttons dressed as weird symbols.

"Communications," he stated and Jack froze for a moment before speaking up.

"Daedalus, this is General O'Neill. Come in, over."

Nothing. He repeated the call while McKay cursed and tweaked something. "This is General O'Neill on board the alien vessel, over."

"General, this is the Daedalus. Good to hear your voice, Jack."

"Steven! The alien has been neutralized. Cease fire and hold your position."

"Standing down."

Jack sighed in relief and stepped back as Sheppard glanced over the controls, murmuring to McKay and Daniel. He watched where McKay was pointing and raised his eyebrows again at the man's intuitive abilities, realizing he could have made an equally good engineer instead of a surgeon judging by his awareness of the alien technology but then Jack wondered if it was the organic nature of the machinery that worked for him. Sheppard's hands danced over the controls and the ship moved forward, turning on a wide arc to face the Earth. He heard an exclamation from McKay and smiled because his reaction was just as awestruck the first time he had seen the Earth from space, bringing it home to him that they were actually up here looking down at the Earth's surface.

Sheppard cast a soft, triumphant look at McKay, and the look was caught, held and returned with interest, causing Jack to look away to hide the smile he was sporting. His eyes caught Daniel's and that was all it took to release the grin he had tried to hold inside.

Between them, he and Sheppard made a good team piloting the ship back towards the Earth, deliberately setting course for the Nevada desert and the infamous Area51 where Scientists would be waiting to study the craft in far more detail, along with the other alien technology gathered from dozens of planets across the galaxy. They settled the craft with a little less finesse than the original pilot might have managed but, it was their first attempt at a landing after all.

"McKay, I need you to..."

"Yes, yes," he stated fractiously as he tapped behind his ear at the place that had irritated him while the alien was alive. "Though, if you don't mind, General, I'd like to run the test myself this time seeing's as your scientists couldn't detect alien technology from human tissue given a week of studying."

"I'll go with him."

"No. I need you here, Major. Daniel?" Daniel nodded and placed a hand on McKay's forearm, encouraging him to turn away. "But, McKay, Daniel?" They both turned back, but Jack kept his gaze focused solely on McKay. "When you're done, I think we could use you *both* back here."

The shy smiles and McKay's slight shift of his eyes towards Sheppard was all the confirmation he and Sheppard needed that everything was going to be fine.

***

After the events on board the alien ship, Rodney decided against returning to his quiet existence on the edge of nowhere, instead he accepted an offer to continue working with the SGC. Strangely, his surgeon's skills were overshadowed by his innate ability to understand organic systems and he found he was sought out for his expertise in dealing with xeno-biotechnology, and even with treating alien lifeforms.

It took him only a few days to figure out how the alien tracking device worked, though the most harrowing part was allowing another doctor to cut into his head to remove it but he trusted Janet Frasier. Afterwards, he presented the SGC with a modified version of the organic subcutaneous transmitter that could be implanted in offworld personnel to aid in search and recovery missions should they fall into danger, its presence undetectable by even the most sophisticated Goa'uld technology.

Within a few months of joining the SGC, he had theorized a way to extract a Goa'uld parasite without killing the human host, using the Asgard beaming technology. It was delicate work but the Asgard on board the Daedalus was intrigued enough by the theory to help him prove its worth.

As the months passed, he found himself in Sheppard's company often, sharing meals and watching occasional movies together, and discovering they had far more in common than either would have believed on first sight.

When Sheppard was given command of SG-2, Rodney was surprised when John offered him a place on the team even though he wasn't military and had never even held a gun let alone fired one. It brought him closer still to John and introduced a whole new element of camaraderie between him and the members of the other SG teams due to the shared danger that came with going on missions offworld, and it strengthened the bond that had already formed between him, Jack and Daniel, turning them into friends. More often than not, SG-2 was used as medical back-up because of his skills, which meant they were often sent into the thickest of the fighting to save lives and, many a time, he had spent hours up to his elbows in blood as he tried to stabilize wounded soldiers on the battlefield ready for transport through the Stargate while his team protected his back. It was not something he had ever expected to do, having never held an inclination to join the medical corps. In truth, he'd always believed that the inner city ER where he completed his internship was enough of a battleground with its gang-related stabbings and shootings that had spilled into the hospital corridors on occasion. However, he enjoyed the challenges on SG-2, never knowing from one day to the next if he would be saving lives on the battlefield or dissecting alien technology, and when they were not in the field, he had plenty of research in the laboratory.

The discovery of the Ancient outpost in Antarctica following a Goa'uld attack on Earth, sent ripples of excitement through the SGC. Once he learned that this had nothing to do with the aliens that had attacked Morpheus, Rodney found he was eager to investigate, especially as the technology would only activate for certain people like Jack, implying a physiological as well as a mental component. The hardest part was leaving John behind at the SGC, and he was shocked at how much he missed the man after only a couple of weeks.

"I hate it here."

"How's that possible?" Rodney could hear the bewilderment in John's voice especially as Rodney had begged to go to the outpost. "You've got a huge medical lab, people personally assigned to work with you?"

John had a point as the work was amazing. A geneticist had been brought onto the project, one of the top people in his field, and Rodney had found he liked Carson Beckett. Carson had already identified a sequence of genes within the human genome that was active in only two percent of those he had tested, the same two percent that could activate the Ancient technology, albeit with great difficulty for the most part. So far, they had discovered only once person who could activate the technology with ease, and that was Jack. Of course, Rodney was annoyed to discover that he was not among those two percent but, instead, was part of a further group consisting of 48 percent of those tested who had the gene sequence in a dormant state. Yet, despite all of the wondrous discoveries...

"It's true." Rodney paused. "I... don't wanna use the term 'lonely,' but, uh, there are certain people who... I miss."

"Me?" He could hear the smile in John's voice, the warmth flooding through the line between them and Rodney was glad that this was a secure line.

"You, I'm talking to right now," he stated waspishly but, in truth, he missed John most of all, having almost forgotten what it was like to be alone despite having desired just that before Morpheus. He missed John's boyish grin and even the teasing, missed the warmth of his bare forearm beneath his fingers when he reached across to share some insight, wanting to connect with more than just words, wanting to touch.

"Daniel's already on his way there...and O'Neill's heading down in a few days. Maybe I'll suggest myself as his pilot."

"Can you...? Would he let you do that?"

"Maybe."

"Hey, did you...?" He heard the click of the line going dead and sighed, staring at the phone in frustration for a moment before John's words fully sank in. Maybe. He couldn't recall a single time when 'maybe' had not meant 'yes', especially as Jack had taken a shine to John following the incident at Morpheus, bringing him into the SGC and giving him his own team. With a lighter heart, Rodney walked away, deciding to go back to the lab to assist Beckett with the final phase of the ATA gene therapy while he waited for Daniel to arrive, knowing John and Jack would arrive only a few days later.

Of course, nothing was ever straight forward and, three days later, Rodney looked on in horror as the helicopter John was piloting swerved to avoid being destroyed by a drone activated by Carson out of fear. He raced into the Chair room where Sam Carter was frantically trying to shut off the power to the drone from the Chair console and leaned in quickly, staring hard at his new friend's face, recalling Carson's innate gentleness.

"Carson, listen to me. You have to think it off before it hurts someone." Not just someone, he thought, it was John and Jack out there. He heard Daniel rush into the Chair room, a glance revealing the paleness of his face as he worried over Jack and John. "Just push all other thoughts out of your mind and concentrate on shutting it off."

He sank to the dais in relief as the Czech scientist told him the drone had deactivated, placing his hand over the one Daniel dropped onto his shoulder and squeezing gently. Behind him Sam Carter was busy securing the Chair with the help of the little Czech guy but Rodney could think only of John and how close he had come to losing him.

Twenty-five minutes later, Rodney looked on with relief as the elevator spilled its contents of two familiar men dressed in military clothing.

"Warm welcome."

Rodney rolled his eyes at Jack's sarcastic remark and left Daniel to explain what had happened while he hung back and fell into step beside John. He frowned at John's narrow-eyed expression.

"You should have warned me about the fleece, McKay...I left my sunglasses up top."

Rodney glanced down in bewilderment at his brightly colored, orange fleece and then back up. "Oh, ha, ha."

Jack glanced over his shoulder. "Major, feel free to wander but don't touch anything."

"Yes, sir."

Of course, Rodney should have known that John wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself and after watching the solar system unfold above John's head just as easily as it did for Jack, Rodney had to wonder if all flyboys came from the same genetic stock. Perhaps he'd suggest that to Carson for when he next went looking for possible ATA gene subjects, telling him to restrict his search to Air Force pilots. Of course the joke was on him when, a few days later, Carson took up the suggestion and tested Major Lorne only to discover that he had the gene too, though in a weaker form. However, it made Rodney want the ATA gene even more desperately, thinking of all the Ancient medical technology that he could utilize if he had the ability to activate it. When Carson made a final breakthrough, it didn't take much convincing for Rodney to offer himself up as Carson's guinea pig to test out the gene therapy.

Rodney smiled softly as he waited in the medical laboratory after Carson injected him with the retrovirus that would alter his DNA to switch on the ATA gene that lay dormant in his body, glancing down often at the small pointing device that could only be activated by someone with the gene. He looked up as the door opened, half expecting Carson's early return from where he was testing blood samples. He straightened as John stormed in, his mouth a tight white line of anger and fear, eyes blazing as he reached out and dragged Rodney off the hospital bed where he was waiting impatiently for the retrovirus to show signs of having done its intended job.

"What the hell were you thinking? No! Don't answer that because you weren't thinking at all!"

"What?"

"Of all the stupid...and you call yourself a doctor! You should know better than to try out untested and unapproved procedures..."

"Oh, like the FDA are going to approve this in my lifetime, and if I had any concern over the side effects then do you think I would have offered myself...?"

"That's just it, Rodney. You weren't in a position to think about this at all. You've wanted this so desperately that you never stopped to think at all. What if it doesn't work? What if it screws up your DNA so badly that...?"

"This isn't X-Men, Sheppard. I'm not going to dissolve into a puddle of goo. The absolute worst that could happen is nothing at all."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you don't. You took a goddamn risk and all for..."

"Don't talk to me about taking risks, Major Throw-myself-between-Rodney-and-the-knife-toting-maniac Sheppard."

"That is my job..." John ground out, punctuating his words with hard shakes.

"And this is mine!"

John shove him hard against the wall, hands bunching in the softness of Rodney's orange fleece. "Yours is to save other peoples' lives, not risk your own," he snarled.

Rodney shoved back, causing John to stagger slightly but still retain his tight hold and annoying him further. "And why should you care...?"

In hindsight, John had only three options; walk away, punch him or kiss him. John chose option three, effectively silencing the impending rant with a soul-searing kiss that melted Rodney's brain and weakened his knees, sending them stumbling backwards onto the solitary medical bed. He covered Rodney's body, his weight forcing Rodney onto his back, half on and half off the bed, hands snaking beneath the orange fleece, beneath the layer of t-shirt to stroke across bare skin. Rodney whimpered into the mouth covering his as John scraped a fingernail over a nipple, arching his back for more, desperate for the feel of warm fingers gliding over his skin, igniting every nerve ending in passing. He lifted his arms at John's wordless bidding, allowing him to drag the fleece and t-shirt over his head, uncaring where his clothing landed. A hot mouth replaced eager fingers, sucking on first one nipple and then the other, biting and licking the flesh in between as busy hands worked on his pants, sliding them off his raised hips to pool at his ankles, caught by his still booted feet. He whimpered again as John took his hard cock in hand, stroking him from base to tip as he alternately sucked and bit a path back up Rodney's chest and neck before mouthing the perfect smoothness of his jaw. Then John was kissing him again, tongue plundering his mouth, and all Rodney could do was whimper and moan as his release swept over him, his body shaking apart under John's touch.

"Damn!" John whispered softly, head thrown back and hips stuttering against Rodney's leg. His body went taut, eyes closing as a gasp turned into a low mewling moan of satisfaction. He dropped his head to Rodney's shoulder, one hand still splayed over Rodney's bare hipbone, the other cupped around Rodney's jaw. His weight pinned Rodney down but he had no energy to protest, reaching up instead to card fingers through John's untidy hair and press soft kisses against whatever part of John he could reach.

The clatter of movement outside had John pushing to his feet in shock, only now recalling exactly where they were and why it was so not a good idea to be caught like this with Rodney. Quickly, he helped Rodney pull his pants back up while Rodney mopped ineffectively at the rapidly cooling semen sticking to his belly and chest.

"Hey!" He whispered harshly when his t-shirt and fleece smacked him in the face. John leaned in and soothed the minor hurt with a kiss before grabbing back the t-shirt and dragging it over Rodney's head.

When Rodney was almost fully dressed, John leaned in one more time and kissed him hard before pulling back, green eyes staring deep into Rodney's eyes, as if searching for regrets but Rodney had none to offer. He'd wanted this from almost the first time they met. John nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips as he leaned in again and brushed Rodney's mouth with a gentle, lover's kiss.

"Your quarters in twenty minutes," John stated, as he backed towards the door. Accidentally, he kicked the small Ancient pointing device that had dropped from Rodney's hand earlier and watched it spin lazily for a moment before snatching it up. It lit up brightly at John's touch but it powered down the moment it left his hand. Rodney almost fumbled the catch when the device lit up beneath the graze of his fingers but his triumphant grin faded slightly at John's grimace.

"No more stupid risks, Rodney."

"I..." Rodney sighed because he hadn't believed taking the gene therapy was stupid, or even a risk, and then he noticed the slightly darkened patch on John's pants near the groin. Perhaps they were both guilty of taking stupid risks, and he nodded, hoping John didn't run into anyone military on his way back to his assigned quarters.

Rodney waited a moment longer and then headed for his own quarters to quickly shower and change. When John slipped through his door only minutes later, Rodney was waiting, drawing him to the narrow bed.

The following day, any fears for John's military position proved groundless. No one seemed to have noticed that John had spent the night in Rodney's quarters though, in truth, his and John's sexual preference towards other males paled into insignificance against the monumental discoveries taking place all around them in the Ancient outpost.

And then Daniel figured out the eight symbol address that would lead them to the fabled lost city of Atlantis.

***

Several weeks later, Rodney stared across the SGC gate room with some trepidation. People milled around beside him, all filled with the same nervous excitement as they waited for the eighth chevron to lock. A cheer rose around the room, followed by clapping, as the wormhole opened with the familiar backwash that made it look almost liquid. Beyond the shimmering event horizon was Atlantis, waiting for them in a whole new galaxy.

As expedition leader, Jack had insisted on being part of the first group to enter the city, and Rodney watched him shoulder into his overstuffed backpack. No one had been surprised when Jack offered John the position of military commander - and the rank of Lieutenant Colonel to go with it - for John had proved himself many times over as leader of SG-2. Now, John stood at the threshold of the Stargate, P-90 in hand, waiting impatiently for the signal to move out, and Rodney knew he was torn between stepping into the void at Jack's side, protecting the first commanding officer who ever gave a shit about him, and remaining on this side with Rodney. If it came to a personal choice, Rodney knew he would win hands-down but John was a consummate professional in his field and Rodney could expect no less from him than a desire to protect a man who was both his leader and his friend.

Rodney's own position on the expedition was quickly assured too, and after discussing it with John, he accepted the position as Chief Medical Officer. Daniel was given the Archeology and Linguistics departments while Zelenka headed up Physics and Engineering, the three of them forming a triumvirate with Rodney at its apex, holding overall responsibility for the science departments. He glanced back down the ramp to where Carson Beckett stood waiting, looking even more nervous than Rodney, but Rodney was glad he had managed to persuade the geneticist to join the expedition because the man was a more than competent surgeon too, someone Rodney could trust in both the operating room and the infirmary.

Rodney sucked in a breath as John raised his hand to his radio, aware that this was it. John looked to Rodney, offering one terse nod before turning back, raising his P90 and stepping across the horizon, closely followed by Jack and several other soldiers, including Lorne. Everyone knew this could be a one way trip but, despite his fear of the unknown, Rodney picked up his cases and pushed forward, shouldering a path through the crowd for him and Daniel to ensure they would be one of the first to follow. Neither of them wanted to risk hanging back in case the ZPM lost power at a critical moment and separated them from their respective lovers, possibly forever.

Tense with the awkward waiting on the ramp leading up to the Stargate, Rodney relaxed only a fraction when Daniel gripped his forearm with his one free hand, grateful that someone else understood how he felt in knowing his lover was on the wrong side of the Stargate should everything fall to pieces.

Another full minute ticked by while they waited for Jack to radio back if it was safe to proceed. Rodney refused to dwell on what a wormhole to another galaxy would do to his molecules, wondering if it would feel any different from normal gate travel. Instead, he thought back over the year that had passed since Morpheus, recalling the fear and danger he had faced both then and since, the exhilaration of new discoveries, and the longing for John Sheppard that was finally consummated with passion and love only a few short weeks ago.

"We have a go, people." Landry stated over the speaker system, drawing Rodney back from his thoughts. "Expedition, move out."

With nothing left on Earth to hold him back, and with his backpack weighing down his shoulders and more cases of valuable medical equipment and drugs in hand, Rodney shuffled after the few people ahead of him and Daniel. He straightened his shoulders as he approached the event horizon. The sensation of falling lasted but a second and then he was stepping into a wondrous new place filled with Ancient architecture and the deep thrum of welcome as his ATA gene, reactivated by Carson's gene therapy, resonated with the city. Beside him, he could hear Daniel gasping in wonder but all Rodney could see was the relieved smile on his lover's face as John flicked a glance back at him. Hurrying forward, Rodney caught up with John, dropped his cases in a safe place and matched his lover step for step as they moved up the ornate staircase, the risers lighting beneath their passing feet.

Daniel joined them on the balcony overlooking the gate room and they watched as a magnum of Champagne rolled across the gate room floor as the Stargate fell silent behind it. Jack picked up the bottle, read the label and held it up towards them. He smiled brightly up at Daniel as he climbed the stairs to join them and Rodney could only watch in stunned delight as Jack took Daniel's face in his hands, leaned in and kissed him with a passion previously hidden behind closed doors.

When Rodney glanced across to John, wanting to see how he was taking this public show of affection, he was surprised to find John already looking back at him with the softest of expressions.

"International expedition on international soil...so the US regulations concerning DADT don't apply here."

Rodney frowned. "And that means?"

John's lips twitched as he drew Rodney into his arms, and he answered Rodney's question with the sweetest, most passionate kiss as Atlantis flared into life all around them, welcoming them home.

THE END

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End file.
